Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
At least I’m out of the townsfolk’s sight inside the ambulance, but it’s not helping how I feel right now.
I clutch the space blanket the EMT threw around my shoulders and glare at my team—and Chief Bowden, hovering just past the ambulance doors.
“I’m fucking telling you,” I snarl. “Culver Jacobin smacked me with a shovel. He’s the psycho shit who’s been stalking Delilah.”
Chief Bowden snorts.
“Culver Jacobin? You think he got the wits for that?” he says, gesturing toward the teenagers clustered on the edge of the crowd and gabbing away. “Do those kids have beer? Shouldn’t we—”
“Fuck the beer,” I spit through my teeth. “They saved my ass, Chief. Let ’em have a can or two of their daddy’s lager. Listen to me, where are the Jacobins now? We have to find Culver. We have to find Delilah before—”
“Aw, you don’t have to worry about her,” Bowden says. “Janelle got her all prettied up and sent up to the big house for that party tonight. She’s safe. That place is a fortress. Nobody’s gonna get to her there.”
Like hell.
That’s called walking right into the lion’s den.
“Graves, listen,” Grant cuts in. “You’re in no condition to—”
“I’m fine, Cap. I will be fucking fine.” I bat the EMT away as she tries to slap a cold compress over my eye. “Quit worrying about me. We’ve got to do the raid, Captain, and we’ve got to do it tonight—but we might need to adjust the plan first.”
“Go on,” Grant says skeptically.
“We find Delilah first,” I growl. “Then we split up. Considering Emma Santos’ body was found at Delilah’s house, that’s a possible kill site if this is a fetishistic, ritual thing. One of us takes the house; one of us takes the main Jacobin farm; one of us goes up to the Arrendell house and checks for her there—and one of us finds the still. Keep the Raleigh crew on standby and call them in for backup, wherever we find her.” I stare hard at Chief Bowden, who’s suddenly avoiding my eyes. “By the way, that’ll go a hell of a lot faster if somebody opens his trap and stops pretending he doesn’t know where it is.”
Chief Bowden gives me a sour look. “I knew where it was. That was two weeks ago, and they don’t tell me when they move. I just get real good at tracking them down. I haven’t found 'em since. You can point fingers all you damn well want, Graves, but I got nothing and I’m not holding a thing back.”
“Goddammit, Chief, you—”
I’m half a breath away from launching myself right at his frog-like throat—but Henri jabs a hand against my chest. That Cajun offers me a reassuring smile, though there’s worry building in his eyes like a summer storm.
“I got a better idea, mon ami,” he says. “You told us Culver took your phone, right?”
I nod—then wince, and this time I let the EMT press the cold pack to my throbbing skull. “Yeah. He might still have it on him if he didn’t chuck it in the lake. I don’t know.”
“Then it won’t be hard to find him at all.” Henri grins and holds up his own phone. “'Cause I got you and the whole squad on GPS.”
Yep.
Right now, I’m thinking I owe that Louisiana boy a year’s worth of beer.
I hadn’t thought much of it months ago, when Henri suggested we install a new app that lets us share our location with approved contacts via GPS, voluntarily allowing nonstop tracking.
It made it a hell of a lot faster to find our crew when responding to emergencies.
Now, that little trick might just help save Delilah.
Took a little work to convince Grant I could handle the mission after a blow to the head—but once he realized he’d have to throw me into the drunk tank and hide the key to stop me, he reluctantly gave his blessing.
He’s off to the big house while Micah checks Delilah’s place, and Henri’s on his way out to the main farm.
Which leaves me, creeping silently through the woods with the GPS on Mallory’s borrowed phone leading me to the coordinates where my phone last pinged a cell tower. It’s still active, too, meaning it wasn’t ever at the bottom of the lake.
North of town.
High in the hills.
Fuck, I’m so high on whatever the medics gave me I can’t even feel the pain in my skull.
My sight’s almost too clear as it catches a little starlight, too bright.
All the fine details grab my attention as I prowl through the darkness, my ears prickling for any signs I might’ve been spotted or heard.
There!
My heart drums harder as I catch a glimpse of light through the dense trees.
I drop down low, holding my breath as I inch closer, careful not to even let a twig snap under my feet.